Egomaniacal filmmaker Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) plans to make his next picture on a mysterious island. When no actress will take such a dangerous job, Denham picks homeless Ann Darrow (Fay Wray) off the street, and the next day they are at sea. The island is home to a degenerate tribe that lives behind a great wall built by their ancestors. Beyond the wall is their god, King Kong, a giant ape. Kong wants this new, strange blonde woman. First mate Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot) wants Ann as well. Denham wants Kong, to take back to America and turned into a commercial attraction. They all aren’t going to get what they want.
Is there anyone who needs a review of King Kong? Most people have seen it. Those who haven’t, who have only heard of Kong from a thousand cultural references including greeting cards, Halloween costumes, and sitcoms, probably have little interest in it. I could discuss it in the context of its times (the Great Depression was the golden age for Lost World stories, etc.) or examine how it has changed cinema (would we have the Ray Harryhausen movies or Godzilla or Jurassic Park without it? When would music specifically designed for the action on screen have come into existence if Kong hadn’t done it?). I could argue feminist theory (Ann is plucked off the street for what appears to be sexual purposes, degraded as only trouble by the crew, and glared at and stripped by Kong), or document homosexual subtexts (the men on the ship really don’t want a woman along—they want to be alone with other men). But all that is pretty obvious. There really isn’t much to say.
So, I won’t say much. Simply, King Kong deserves it’s classic status. It’s as good now as it was 70+ years ago. It’s a rollicking adventure, that keeps a nearly perfect balance between comedy, action, romance, and drama. It never slows down, yet jams in several themes and a plot that lesser storytellers would require twice as long to present (no offence to Mr. Jackson, but his still-enjoyable 2005 remake ran 187 minutes and didn’t add a thing; that’s nearly an hour and a half longer). It is at all times a fantasy, which is enhanced by the dream-like stop-motion animation. It has marvelous, developed, larger-than-life characters (OK, not so much for Jack Driscoll, but that’s only one flaw) that you will both want to cheer for and strangle, and Kong is the grandest of them all. It is sentimental without getting saccharine. It’s just damn fine entertainment.
Now I love the big hairy guy, but what always hits me while watching, what takes me away to another world, is the gigantic gate. Deep in mist, it is a primeval symbol…plus it looks so cool. Numerous critics have pointed to it as a flaw in the film, asking: Why would the natives build a gate that wasn’t for themselves, but for a monster they never want to let in? The question misses its beauty. In a world where immense pyramids rise out of a desert, and the Empire State building hangs over New York, are those gates really odd? Kong isn’t a monster to the natives, he’s a god. And for your god, of course you would build him an entrance, and then you’d do everything in your power to stop him from using it. Personal visits from gods never turn out well.
Most of the filmmakers returned for a poorly received sequel, Son of Kong, later in 1933. Kong, considerably larger and obviously a man in a suit, was brought back by Toho for the ludicrous King Kong Vs. Godzilla (1962) and its semi-sequel, King Kong Escapes (1967).
There have been two remakes: Dino de Laurentiis’s unintentionally funny 1976 King Kong (which he followed with a sequel, King Kong Lives, in 1986) and Peter Jackson’s lengthy 2005 version, also titled King Kong.